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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25531636">We Go Together</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManicRavingsofaLunatic/pseuds/ManicRavingsofaLunatic'>ManicRavingsofaLunatic</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Immortal Husbands Collection [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Old Guard (Movie 2020)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Backwoods surgery, Bathing/Washing, Big Spoon Joe, Booker redemption, Graphic description/Injury detail, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, M/M, Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Whump, Team as Family, Temporary Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 08:28:38</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>16,025</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25531636</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/ManicRavingsofaLunatic/pseuds/ManicRavingsofaLunatic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"We are meant to find each other" Nicky had said. Destiny.<br/>The Old Guard have barely had time to lick their wounds before Destiny drops their bombshell. Exiled traitors don't stay gone. Lost friends don't stay buried at the bottom of the sea. And mad doctors don't let go of their test subjects.<br/>Nicky was right. But there is always a price.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Immortal Husbands Collection [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1872301</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>167</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1290</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The Old Guard</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Quynh's alive."</p><p><br/>
No one believed Booker at first - why would they? He had barely been exiled half a year before he had tracked them down and threw that sudden revelation at them.</p><p> <br/>
Holed up in Berlin, the team were still adapting to their new roster; Nile slowly coming to terms with her immortality and all that it entailed, as Andy pointedly ignored her mortality. They had laid low but stuck together instead of going their separate ways, learning from mistakes made before.</p><p><br/>
Not long after they had fled England with Copley covering their tracks, Andy had woken from the deepest sleep she had had in five centuries. The first night that the dreams of Quynh drowning abruptly stopped plaguing her. She had hoped that it meant that Quynh's torture was finally over - perhaps her time had come with Andy's - together as they always should have been, right until the end.</p><p><br/>
"She's alive," Booker insisted. He stood before them, blood stained with the smell of alcohol on his breath, imploring them to believe him. "She found me in Paris, in my apartment waiting for me--"</p><p><br/>
"Why should we believe you?" Joe cut him off. He was angry, hurt, and had most definitely not let go of the betrayal that had left him watching Nicky die over and over as Dr Kozak conducted her experiments. Forgiveness was hard won from Joe when it came to hurting Nicky, and maybe not even the 100 year exile would have been enough. Bitter rage twisted his features as he placed himself slightly front of Nicky protectively. Nicky huffed at the gesture, but made no attempt to move away. "After what you have done and the lies you have told?"</p><p><br/>
"Joe--" Nile tried, but there wasn't enough history there for her to understand the vitriol in Joe's voice. Her week of acquaintanceship versus two centuries of brotherhood not even a drop in the ocean.</p><p> <br/>
"I'm telling the truth!" Booker shouted, a tremor running through him. "I am trying to<em> warn</em> you! Quynh is alive, she's back and she's... she's... she's fucking crazy!"</p><p>Andy flinched, hard. </p><p><br/>
Booker gave her a solemn look, apologetic. "Understandably," he muttered. 500 years at the bottom of the English Channel, locked in an iron maiden to suffer endlessly drowning over and over again would be enough scramble anyone's brains. None of them could even imagine that suffering and its consequences. "She knew where I lived, what had happened, that I had been exiled. She asked me if I was mad, angry at you for throwing me away. To have been abandoned like she was."</p><p><br/>
Andy stared stone faced at the kitchen table, barely even breathing. Nicky watched her worriedly as Nile subtly moved a little closer to her in support. Not touching, just there.</p><p><br/>
"How <em>dare</em> you," Joe hissed. "Throwing Quynh's name around like you can claim to know her and her suffering. She was taken from us in the worst way--"</p><p><br/>
"You were the first to give up," Booker said quietly, meeting Joe's furious gaze. The room fell utterly still, the immortals barely even breathing. "You left <em>hngh--"</em></p><p>Joe had a hand wrapped around Booker's throat, squeezing. "We searched for <em>decades.</em> Half a century almost; drowning ourselves as we scoured the seabed."</p><p><br/>
"Until the s-storm," Booker gasped out. He hadn't even tried to break Joe's grip on his throat, but took a short breath when it loosened slightly. Joe's teeth were bared, daring him to continue. "When Nicky was cast adrift and it took two years to find him again. You gave up searching for her because you almost lost Nicky. <em>She knows."</em></p><p>Joe slowly released Booker and looked back at Nicky who met his eyes with a guilty expression. The storm had been violent, rending the ship in two halves with the wild currents of the English Channel throwing wreckage in all directions. Joe vividly remembered the last look that he and Nicky had shared as they were torn away from each other; how he had screamed himself hoarse as he clung to part of the ship bobbing on giant waves, desperately trying to find Nicky in the darkness.</p><p> <br/>
Currents had taken them to different shores, though neither had known this. Joe and Andy had washed up together on a beach in Great Yarmouth while Nicky had somehow ended up in Dunkirk. Joe had been single-minded in his search, Andy sticking with him even as her dreams were invaded by dull thuds of bloodied fists on metal and frantic wet gasps.</p><p>By the time that they found each other again the damage had been done. Joe was the first to say that it was time to quit, to let Quynh go. Nicky had protested at first; one of their only true fights as he had left with Andy for one more expedition. But then even Nicky had acquiesced and a decade after that, Andy too had come to them and said it was time to find the next mission. They left to fight in another war and tried so very hard to lay the ghost at their backs to rest.</p><p><br/>
They had never told Booker that part of the story. As with Nile, they had explained the dreams of the woman in the coffin as the one that was lost. They couldn't keep searching forever; but they never said why they had stopped.</p><p>"She's back, Joe," Booker broke the silence. He looked to Andy who was still frozen as a statue, though her eyes flicked up to meet his. "I swear to you, she's alive. She made it back to a world very different from the one that she left, but she has adapted. And she's <em>pissed."</em></p><p>"Where is she?" Andy asked, voice cracking a little.</p><p>"England."</p>
<hr/><p>The building was old - not as old as Nicky and Joe, but perhaps a little older than Booker. Old enough to have had many lives; a fort, a school, a hospital, a sanatorium. Until recently it had been repurposed as a research station. Outside the walls were thick stone with thin barred windows, speaking of its history. Inside, however, its guts had been stripped back and replaced with modern partitions and glass windowed laboratories; winding corridors leading through a thick maze.</p><p>It seemed an unlikely place for Quynh to end up; but Booker was certain and Copley had backed him up. Six months ago; mere weeks after the literal fall of Steven Merrick, the deserted building had suddenly started drawing from the power grid again - a corporation buried in shell companies taking ownership. Copley had been watching it for a while, concerned by the mysterious research taking place there. </p><p><br/>
He had a surveillance photo of Quynh.</p><p>Andy had cajoled her contacts for the first flight to England, Nicky arranging supplies and weapons while Nile scanned through the dossier Copley had provided them. Joe protested when it was decided that Booker would come with them, but backed down at Nicky's reassurance and settled for glaring at Booker distrustfully. The flight was long and tense, the drive to the safehouse stifling, and the mission briefing volatile.</p><p><br/>
Nothing about any of it felt right. There were too many questions that couldn't be answered by Copley's dossier and Booker's run in with Quynh. How had she come back? Why was she here with some shadowy organisation with its own veritable army? Who were they? What did they want? What did <em>Quynh</em> want?</p><p> <br/>
Booker described Quynh as the quiet sort of crazy. On first impression she was calm, put together - not the writhing ball of trauma one would expect. But the madness was there, thrumming through her body language and revealing itself in her hate-fuelled words and dark eyes. She had sought Booker out purposely - seeking a kindred that had been left behind and abandoned? Testing them and their loyalty? Using him as bait? </p><p>"I don't like it," Joe huffed, watching as Nicky headed around to the secondary breach point, Booker close behind him. He didn't like any of it, but as they disappeared into the darkness like shadows a terrible sense of dread pooled in Joe's gut. "Booker shouldn't be with Nicky--"</p><p>"Nicky is the only one that can work with him," Andy cut him off. She checked her pistol and tugged uncomfortably at her body armour. Even after a few missions she still couldn't get used to the weight and constriction - and the painful reminder that death was now a permanent offering. "You can't see past your anger and Nile's too green. Nicky will be fine, Joe. Now I need you to <em>focus</em> so that the rest of us will be."</p><p><br/>
Joe gritted his teeth, sending one last look after Nicky, before giving Andy a short nod. "I'm with you boss."</p><p>"Good." Andy grunted, then glanced at Nile who was tapping at a tablet computer. "We set?"</p><p>A few taps and a muffled beep sounded from the device. Nile grinned up at them "Doors' open boss."</p><p>Andy tapped her earpiece, waiting for Booker to confirm their position. "Breach."</p><p><br/>
They moved seamlessly; Joe taking point as he led them in to the labyrinth. Nile took the rear, keeping Andy sandwiched between them protectively, ignoring her irritated huffs as they would purposely move to keep her in the more sheltered position. The first few kills were silent, a blade to the throat from behind, but soon gunfire erupted and the element of surprise was lost.</p><p>Not that it was likely that they had it in the first place.</p><p>The blueprints showed a large lab on the ground floor which was to be Nicky and Bookers' target, and a central office/living space which Joe led the two woman towards. They came for Quynh, but Copley had rightfully pointed out that research taking place and its connection to her was important as well.</p><p>Andy took down four men with clean headshots as Joe drew his scimitar and artfully switched between cutting down soldiers and filling them with lead. Nile stuck with her M27 as she picked off any that strayed out of Joe and Andy's deadly range. They swiftly cleared rooms and corridors as they made their way through the building.</p><p>In under ten minutes they made it to target, the corridor opening up into a large space that may have once been a hall with a vaulted ceiling but had since been divided into living spaces. Modern couches and chrome furniture smartly filled the space but provided no cover as they came to a pause just inside the door frame.</p><p>The arrow was a surprise.</p><p><em>"Motherfucker,"</em> Nile hissed as she stared at the fletched bolt protruding from under her right collar bone. Andy blanched as she recognised the arrow, automatically turning to where it had come from.<br/>
Quynh stood fearlessly by the back wall; a flawless image of beauty and strength. She wore red, which had always been her favourite colour, dark hair spilling over her shoulders and painted lips quirked in an imitation of a smile. She slowly lowered her bow as Nile yanked the arrow shaft from her chest. "Huh," Quynh said. "You're new."</p><p>"Quynh," Andy breathed, her gun lowering almost without her consent.</p><p>Her smile almost became real as Quynh met Andy's eyes. "Andromache."</p><p>Cold eyes turned to Joe. "Yusuf."</p><p>"Nile," Nile muttered quietly. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Booker followed closely behind Nicky as they ventured quietly through the building. The gunfight had already started from the front as Andy and the others made their entrance, leaving little resistance for the two of them to cut through as they headed towards the lab.</p><p><br/>
This was the stealth part of the mission. There was no way that the reunion with Quynh was going to be anything less than violent, but hopefully with a little snooping they would be able to get some answers to the many questions that were haunting them all.</p><p><br/>
Nicky took a bullet to the shoulder which was quickly forgotten as  Booker took the shooter down, the two men settling into old rhythms in spite of the betrayal that hung between them all. It unnerved Nicky to have Booker at his back, but he seemed determined to redeem himself, and so far nothing he had said had been proven a lie. Even so, Nicky couldn't help but replay the moment that they had discovered his treachery - Booker's quiet <em>I killed her</em> croaked in the cold of the lab.</p><p>And then he was back there. White walls and sterile equipment. That antiseptic smell that was supposed to be clean but just felt cloying in the back of the throat. Strapped down and helpless as the monitor sounding Joe's heartbeat droned a solitary tone over and <em>over--</em></p><p><br/>
Booker placed a hand on Nicky's shoulder, abruptly breaking the spell that had frozen him. </p><p>"Shit," he hissed emphatically, shifting the weight of the gun in his hands to ground himself as he took in their actual surroundings - not all that different from the waking nightmare, though thankfully the room had been empty.</p><p><br/>
"You good?" Booker asked quietly in Italian, hand still burning against Nicky's shoulder even as his eyes stayed alert to the room. </p><p>"Good," Nicky answered in kind.</p><p>They moved as one into the lab, Nicky turning his back to the equipment as he watched the doors, covering Booker as he stepped up to one of the computers. As he plugged in a hard drive that Copley assured them would do the hard work for him, Booker shuffled through the papers littering the desk. There wasn't much, just odd notes in handwriting too messy to decipher. He pocketed a bunch of them just as the distant gunfire stopped.</p><p><br/>
Both men looked up automatically as if they would be able to see just what it was that had ended Andy's full frontal assault on the building, though they both knew that it could only be one thing. They had found Quynh.</p><p><br/>
The door to the lab burst open, Nicky taking out the first two assailants before two shots to the stomach had him doubling over and staggering behind a metal cabinet for cover. He returned fire as his skin knit itself back together, keeping attention on him as Booker waited for the hard drive to finally finish its download.</p><p>"Done!" Booker shouted over the din, pocketing the intelligence. They shared a look, communicating a plan with a glance. Nicky leapt from his cover, keeping the enemy fire on him a few moments longer as Booker shoved the desk at the door. The men inside the room were already dead, and those coming down the corridor suddenly found themselves in a narrow chokepoint soon to join them.</p><p>Mangled bullets rained to the floor as the immortals shook off the wounds that they had earned, the only two left breathing in a sea of carnage.</p><p>Booker paused, looking at the number of foot soldiers that had been sent to the lab. "I thought we were supposed to have the quiet job?"</p><p>Nicky hummed thoughtfully. Considering most of the building's security would have been sent to stop the obvious direct attack, it was concerning that so many had still been left to come after them. This wasn't the normal corporate army of 30 or so bored ex-soldiers. "Who are these people?"</p><p><br/>
They took the reprieve to check the status of their ammunition and refresh cartridges before shouldering their guns and stepping over corpses back in to the corridor. Quietly they set off to explore the rest of the building, continuing on to their secondary objective to look for more intelligence while being ready to provide back-up to Andy and the others if necessary.</p><p>They checked out smaller labs, cold storage rooms, computer banks and one area that looking suspiciously like holding cells, never meeting more than one or two stray personnel. It was both disconcerting and reassuring that finally they had seemingly thinned what was starting to feel like an endless army, but Nicky couldn't shake the unease in his gut. Booker looked equally off-put as they came to the south side of the building, entering what may have once been a green house or sheltered garden. </p><p>Lit only by the light of the moon breaking through the grime of the glass roof, they slowly made their way down the aisle to the door on the other side where there should be another lab. Trailing weeds and overgrown plants had taken over everything, tangling around old tables and abandoned equipment like an urban jungle. There was nothing but the quiet chatter of insects and their light footsteps in the dirt until there came the loud cascade of broken glass.</p><p>Nicky felt a dual impact to his chest and let out a grunt, automatically dropping to his knee as he tried to identify where the shot had come from. Booker crouched beside him, weapon raised at the hole in the glass roof searching for what must have been a sniper.</p><p>The pain was immense but not exactly new, and neither was the sensation of hot blood soaking his shirt. But the familiar feeling of the air being punched from his lungs wasn't fading. Nicky was starting to become dizzy from oxygen deprivation as he glanced down to check on the healing wound.</p><p>Two shots to centre mass, just to the right of his heart. He hadn't died instantly, which was surprising. By all rights he should have done - and he still wasn't breathing and - <em>oh.</em></p><p><em>"Book--"</em> Nicky gasped, metal in his mouth as his short breath was already flecked with blood. </p><p>Booker threw him a sideways look, doing a double take as his eyes darted to the wound on his chest. The wound that was very much <em>not</em> healing. "Fuck!"</p><p>Nicky must have blacked out then, because the next thing he knew Booker had dragged him back to the door and into the building, pressing him into a secluded corner so that he could hold his gun ready and apply pressure to the wound at the same time. "Fuck, Nicky - stay with me <em>-fuck!"</em></p><p>Every breath was a hard won battle that spilled more blood from his lips, preventing the litany of creative cursing in old Genoese from escaping. The wound burned where Booker was desperately pushing to try and stem the flow of crimson, but it was the alien feeling of the two bullets still buried in his chest as twin points of agony that stole all of his attention. He had never experienced anything like it, the foreign objects burrowed deep and clinging. "S-something'sswrong."</p><p>Booker managed to translate the slurred words though Nicky had idea what language they had come out in. "Yeah no shit!" Booker retorted - French and a touch hysterical, though that could likely be forgiven under the circumstances. "You're not healing - you're - you - <em>shit!"</em></p><p>He was probably afraid of Joe, Nicky's exhausted mind wondered. What would he do to Booker when he found out, when he hadn't even come close to forgiving his previous transgressions? Exile would not be enough this time. </p><p>Nicky choked on a sob as he thought of Joe, all of their promises that they would go together dripping to the hard tile beneath him. This would break him. </p><p>Nearly a millennium together, side by side. The only immortals to have ever been borne at the same time. Hatred and murder turned to understanding and love. Joe had once said that he believed that they were actually one soul shared between them; two sides of a single coin. Nicky believed it. No one could ever love as deeply or as truly as they did for each other.</p><p>Their first death had been together. Their last was supposed to be too.</p><p>"Itssnot t-time."</p><p>Death, apparently, disagreed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"It's really you," Andy whispered as she cupped Quynh's cheek, warm and real beneath her palm. Tears had filled her eyes, blurring her vision slightly, but there was no mistaking the face that stared back at her. "You're <em>here."</em></p>
<p>"We promised," Quynh replied. "You and me..."</p>
<p>"Until the end."</p>
<p>The room was frozen, the two women standing close in the centre of it and seemingly oblivious of Joe and Nile. It was the reunion that Andy had been hoping for but knew she did not deserve. Centuries apart, punishing herself for failing Quynh while Quynh suffered a fate worse than death over and over and over...</p>
<p>Andy remembered yanking futilely on her chains until her wrists were shredded and blood loss took her, then waking up to do it all over again. Finally freeing herself and going on a rampage that nearly cost her the snippet of information that had led her to the Channel. Yusuf and Nicolo finding her in a frenzied state and putting her back together <em>just</em> enough. Decades spent on boats as they dived deep to try and find Quynh's tomb. The day she realised that Quynh was truly out of her reach, and if she kept trying she would lose the only two people that she had left.</p>
<p>"I tried to find you, I swear," Andy said, though she knew she had no right to defend herself from breaking her promise. </p>
<p>"I know you did," Quynh reassured her. She reached up to hold Andy's face in both hands, bringing them closer so that their foreheads rested together. In their peripheral, Joe winced at how vulnerable Andy's position was. "I know how hard you tried to stop them, I heard you screaming and begging them to let me go. I know you searched for me, you would <em>never</em> break your promise, my Andromache."</p>
<p>Quynh pressed a kiss to her forehead and then stepped back, the warmth of her eyes abruptly turning cold as they flicked to Joe. "I know the truth."</p>
<p>Joe steeled himself, grip tightening on in his scimitar. "No you don't."</p>
<p>"Joe--" Andy tried to intervene but Quynh just tilted her head, the madness that Booker had described starting to ooze through the cracks of her calm façade.</p>
<p>"Do I not, Yusuf?" She asked sharply. "Was it not you who determined that mine and Andromache's pain was less than yours? That our suffering should be made to continue just to abate your own fear of loss? Was it not your belief that what you have with that <em>Crusader</em> was worth more than our love? Tell me, Yusuf, what is this truth I do not know?"</p>
<p>Joe sighed, heavy with guilt even as he drew himself taller. "Yes, I was the first to call off the search. I had had a taste of Andy's pain and it filled me with a fear that I can never overcome. But they were still determined to find you, kept going even as I chose to move on. I am truly sorry for that, dear Quynh, but I do not regret it. Finding you was an impossible task--"</p>
<p>Quynh scoffed, hand resting on the hilt of the sword at her hip. "Clearly it was not impossible, I stand before you now, do I not? It took these people mere weeks to discover my tomb and free me."</p>
<p>"They- they found you?" Andy questioned, her mind catching on the implications as the shock of finding Quynh slowly abated. They must have searched for Quynh on purpose - but how would they have even known of her in the first place? Their trial had never been recorded by history, the Church preferring to bury the fact that they had failed to rid of the world of such devils. There was no evidence of her on Copley's wall. No one had known of another immortal still living outside of the guard. How did they know to look for her and <em>why?</em> </p>
<p>The tension between them all had increased, Andy finally seeing the murderous look twisting Quynh's face. She glanced over at Nile, standing ready at the door as she observed silently and watched their backs. Joe was standing firm, stance battle ready, his focus entirely on Quynh - the only threat in the room.</p>
<p>It was like a veil lifted from Andy's eyes. The moment she had laid eyes on Quynh she had lost awareness of everything else. To be able to touch her, to see her whole and alive and as beautiful as they day that they had been torn apart . To hear Quynh absolve her guilt, to forgive her most grievous sin. It was everything that she had prayed for just as much as she had feared it.</p>
<p>"They found you," Joe spat, drawing Andy's attention back. "Because they had the benefit of modern technology. All we had was a possible bearing, a rope and the breath in our lungs--"</p>
<p>"Then why did you never search for me with this modern technology?" Quynh cut him off, one eyebrow elegantly raised as she bristled with fury. "Why didn't you ever try again with the development of diving suits? When submersibles were invented? Radar? <em>Why did you never come back for me?!"</em></p>
<p>Andy felt as if she had been punched hard in the solar plexus. Quynh may have directly blamed Joe for them calling off the search, but there had been nothing stopping Andy from trying again later with the advent of the right tools. But she hadn't. For one simple reason.</p>
<p>Five hundred years. Drowning over and over every few minutes. Dying some fifty million times only to awaken to the same hell with no escape. There was no telling what they would release.</p>
<p>Joe stared at Quynh as she shook before them, eyes wild, body tense and an aura of menace surrounding her that turned her into something Andy didn't recognise. </p>
<p>"Because there was nothing left to save."</p>
<p>Quynh released an inhuman shriek and flew at Joe, sword raised in a wild swing that ignored the centuries of perfect form of her past. Joe met her blade, deflecting smoothly and aiming for her open torso. But Quynh was unpredictable, brandishing the bow that she still held in her other hand and smacking Joe hard across the side of the head.</p>
<p>Joe dropped and Nile opened fire; three perfect shots to the centre of Quynh's chest, but it didn't even slow her down. She was fuelled by a rage so wild physical pain barely registered. She healed fast - faster than Andy had ever seen - centuries of practice making it seem as if she didn't even die any more. She <em>just kept going</em> like a juggernaut.</p>
<p>Joe tried to match her, attempting to read her and counter but he simply couldn't. Slashes appeared across his body, knitting together too slow to react to the next strike. </p>
<p>Quynh slit his throat with a triumphant shout that devolved into a hysterical laugh. "Wake up! Wake up so I can do it again!"</p>
<p>Andy could see Joe's throat healing, but her gaze was drawn to his lifeless eyes staring back at her. Joe, a constant point she had come to rely on. His strength, his protectiveness, his love, his art. The way he would lift her into a bear hug whenever they met up again. How he would make her laugh. How he would always watch her back.</p>
<p>Joe gasped, and Quynh struck him again, nearly separating his head from his shoulders.</p>
<p><em>"NO!"</em> Andy screamed, her axe in her hand before she could even think of it. She caught the next swing before Quynh could hack him to pieces, wrenching up and twisting the sword from her grip. Quynh didn't even look at her - didn't see her at all. With her now free hand she delivered a brutal punch to Andy's stomach and doubled her over. She grabbed an arrow from her quiver, aiming for her exposed neck--</p>
<p>"Andy!" Nile yelled, emptying an entire clip into Quynh. The multiple impacts were enough to jerk Quynh's arm, scraping the arrow across the back of her shoulder instead. Through the pain, Andy saw Quynh nock another arrow and shot Nile through the eye, and then Quynh kicked Andy hard enough to send her sprawling, gasping for breath.</p>
<p>Joe woke, hand reaching for his sword even as his throat was still healing and pulsing with blood. Quynh kicked it away before coming to straddle his chest. She brushed her finger down his cheek in the parody of a caress. </p>
<p>"Yusuf," she murmured, smiling softly at him as her hand came to rest at his ear, tracing his earpiece. "I am dying to know. How is dear Nicolo these days?"</p>
<p>Andy was slowly pulling herself up onto her elbows as static blasted in their comms, followed by Booker's shaky voice. <em>"Ch-change of plan. I-I'm taking Nicky to exfil."</em> </p>
<p>Quynh's smile turned wicked as Joe froze beneath her. He didn't even seem aware of her presence anymore as his world shrunk down to those stammered words. "What do you mean <em>you are taking Nicky to exfil?"</em> he shouted still with a mouth full of blood from his ripped throat. "Booker! <em>Nicky?</em> Nicky answer me! <em>Nicolo!"</em></p>
<p>Andy's eyes widened, staring at Quynh as she leaned down and pulled Joe's hair to try and get his attention. Across the room, Nile was grimacing in pain and clasping at her slowly re-growing eye, the removed arrow held in her other hand as she blanched in fear. Joe was calling for Nicky, over and over, but his voice never responded on the comms and Booker was silent.</p>
<p>Quynh gripped Joe's neck, sliding her thumb into the edge of the wound that had yet to heal, forcing his eyes to meet hers.</p>
<p>"I pray that you suffer as Andromache did," she declared vehemently. "Let us see if you survive with her grace."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The van was parked a mile away from the building, on a dirt road that had no right to be called a road, but close enough to the motorway to allow for a quick exit. Booker couldn't remember if it was rented or stolen, but he was grateful it was unlocked when he reached it and yanked open the back door.</p><p>Nicky was a heavy weight over his shoulder, still and cold. Booker had removed his belt and scabbard and attached the sword to his own waist, not wanting to leave something so precious to Nicky behind. Carefully he climbed into the van, dropping to a crouch so that he could lower Nicky slowly to the floor. Booker had closed Nicky's eyes so that his features only looked lax with sleep, if one could ignore the bloodless pallor. Should he cover the wound on his chest? Was it better or worse to know instantly that he was gone?</p><p>Booker squeezed his eyes shut and uttered a brief prayer that he had heard Nicky say before, taking the sword and laying it beside him.</p><p>After a moment of quiet grief, Booker climbed out of the van to lean beside it; holding his gun ready in the pretence of standing guard as a distraction.</p><p>It wasn't long before he heard them approach. They were silent, but their footsteps were hurried, completing the short hike faster than Booker had managed while carrying Nicky.</p><p>He saw Joe first, absolutely covered in blood and his clothes shredded with the evidence of multiple sword strikes. He wasn't even carrying a weapon, his expression blank as muscle memory seemingly carried him towards the rendezvous point. He met Booker's eyes for a moment, and Booker nodded towards the back of the van. Joe climbed in, and after a minute of silence, a loud keen of despair and heartbreak sounded in the night.</p><p>Nile came next, supporting a shell-shocked Andy under one arm. Blood coated the side of her face and one eye was still closed - likely still healing from a serious wound. Somehow she was carrying Joe's scimitar and Andy's axe even with her arm wrapped around the older woman, her M27 held ready in her other hand. She slumped in exhaustion when she saw Booker, who hurried forward to take Andy from her hands.</p><p>"Where are you hurt?" Booker asked quietly, though Andy flinched as if he has shouted in her ear. Nile walked past them to lay the weapons in the back of the van, letting out a sob before dropping to her knees in the mud. </p><p>Andy tried to step out of Booker's hold, but staggered, all of her weight falling on to him. "Andy..."</p><p>"I need to... I need to see..." She muttered determinedly, pushing forwards again. With a pained sigh, Booker acquiesced, leading her to the back of the van so she could see through the open door.</p><p>Joe had gathered Nicky up into his arms, rocking them as tears poured down his face. He was murmuring under his breath, switching between languages too quickly for Booker to translate. He kept running his fingers through Nicky's hair, pressing kisses to his face, praying and begging for Nicky to wake up.</p><p>It had been nearly twenty minutes since he had died. Nicky wasn't coming back.</p><p>They stayed like that; Joe curled with Nicky, Nile kneeling on the ground, Andy wrapped in  Booker's arms, each mourning.</p><p>Eventually, Nile took a deep breath and stood, making an impressive attempt at a brave face even as she scrubbed at her tears. "It's not safe to stay here, they might have followed us. I- I'll drive."</p><p>Booker nodded, following Nile to the front of the van and stopping at the passenger door. He removed Andy's body armour with her barely even acknowledging his presence. He checked her for wounds but thankfully only found bruises and the graze on her shoulder. She would be hurting for a while, and her shoulder would need cleaning and stitching, but it could wait for now. He nudged Andy towards the passenger seat and she blinked at him.</p><p>"You need to wear a seatbelt." </p><p>It took a moment for that to register with her, but considering the sheer volume of emotional gut punches that had been thrown at her in the past hour alone, Booker figured he was lucky she was moving under her own power at all. She climbed into the seat and Booker made sure she was strapped in before meeting Nile's gaze as she sat at the wheel. "Are you okay for this?"</p><p>Nile nodded, turning the key in the ignition. "Get in. Joe... Joe needs someone there."</p><p>Booked closed the door and returned to the back of the van, settling down by the wheel arch before tapping the wall twice as an indicator that they were good to go. Nile pulled away as smoothly as she could on the crappy road, driving slow until the tires met tarmac and she joined traffic.</p><p>Joe had quieted and slipped into shock. Nicky was pulled across his lap still with his head resting in the crook of Joe's elbow, Joe's free hand resting just beneath the wound in his chest, his thumb rubbing idle circles in the flaking blood on his shirt.</p><p>Booker couldn't help but stare at the two holes bored in Nicky's chest. His hands were covered in dried blood from where he had tried to keep pressure, tried to keep his life from slipping away, Nicky's chest shuddering beneath him as he choked for breath.</p><p>
  <em>Something's not right. It's not time.</em>
</p><p>Nicky's garbled words echoed in Booker's mind. He remembered Nicky's expression, pain-filled of course, but also confused as he pawed uselessly at his chest. He had been afraid - he was dying - but at the same time determined--</p><p>
  <em>It's not time.</em>
</p><p>Booker shook his head, staring down at his blood covered hands. Nicky had been wrong. </p><p>They drove in silence for a long while, the rumble of the engine and the gentle creak of the van as it swayed the only sound. Booker could see Nile's white knuckled grip on the steering wheel as she fought to keep herself grounded long enough to get them all somewhere safe. She was crying, but stoically ignoring the tears as they dripped from her chin.</p><p>He couldn't see more of Andy than the tuft of her dark hair against the head rest, but he knew she hadn't moved at all the whole journey. She was as deep in shock as Joe, reeling from guilt and  pain and loss. Booker knew what Quynh had become; he had tried to warn her, but he knew that Andy had still held out hope that she would be able to bring the Quynh she knew back. To instead realise that there was little of her lost friend left, that Quynh was a threat to them now, not family... To have lost Nicky in exchange for finally seeing her again.</p><p>Maybe Booker shouldn't have told them. </p><p>Quynh had appeared before him, saying spiteful words that he would be lying to say he hadn't thought before. That the only people he had left had abandoned him and thrown him to his misery - that he was just as angry at them for not understanding why he had done it as he was mad at himself for doing it. That watching what Joe and Nicky had for the past two hundred years while his wife, sons were ripped from him had turned something in him cruel. </p><p>She was right. He was jealous, and angry, and bitter. He had longed for something he couldn't have for so long, that part of him wanted to destroy that happiness in others. Had Quynh found him before Copley and Merrick, he probably would have gone with her - desperate for his pain to be validated. But then he had been exiled, left to face a hundred years without Joe and Nicky, Nile - likely to never see Andy again. He may not have had a soulmate, but he had had a family. He hadn't been truly alone until he had made it so with his betrayal.</p><p>Now he watched Joe break apart, his true love of nine centuries violently ripped from him, and Booker realised just how wrong he had been to assume that they were lucky to always have each other. They all knew better than most that always didn't mean forever. One of them would inevitably be left behind.</p><p>It was his fault. Booker should have stayed away.</p><p>The van rolled over a pothole and one of them let out a small, pained gasp. It took Booker a long moment to realise where the sound had come from.</p><p>And then he saw Nicky's eyes flicker open.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Joe was adrift.</p><p>He had lost awareness some time ago, he thinks. The moment that Quynh had uttered Nicolo's name with such deranged glee he just <em>knew</em> that something was terribly, terribly wrong. An emptiness he had never felt before engulfed him even as he fought to deny the truth. Nicky was gone.</p><p>
  <em>I pray that you suffer as Andromache did </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Let us see if you survive with her grace</em>
</p><p>He had made it to the rendezvous point, though he couldn't recall how. He remembered Booker looking at him with guilt and pity, a flicker of rage igniting within him before the void in his chest snuffed it out. He walked to the back of the van, pausing a moment.</p><p>
  <em>As much as I enjoy watching you sleep, I'm glad you're awake</em>
</p><p>Nicky was lying still, face lax and smooth as if merely sleeping. His sword was laid beside him, and Joe had the brief grateful thought to thank Booker for bringing it back to him as well. Joe had kneeled beside Nicky, gently brushing his hair back before placing his hand on his cheek.</p><p>"Nicolo," he had whispered. "Wake up"</p><p>He had waited. Nicky's skin was cold beneath his hand and he was just so <em>still,</em> but surely. <em>Surely</em> Destiny would not be so cruel as to do this. Any moment his Nicky's eyes would open as they had thousands of times before. They were meant to go together.</p><p>But Nicky didn't wake. Joe held him and begged and pleaded and demanded of both their gods to return the other half of his soul - or at the very least to take Joe with him. </p><p>The pain was indescribable. His heart had been ripped from his chest and he was left holding its cool vessel in his arms. A gnawing cavity had opened inside of him, a hole that could never be filled and throbbed in agony. He couldn't breathe anymore, couldn't bring himself to move - to let go. The pain encompassed his whole being and left him numb to anything else.</p><p>He wasn't aware of the others moving around him, Nile driving them to safely as Andy broke just as surely as he did. He didn't see Booker watching him carefully with guilty eyes.</p><p>At first he wasn't even aware of the breath as it brushed his collar bone through the rip in his shirt. Didn't see the twitch of fingers or flicker of eyelids. It wasn't until a second breath was attempted, an aborted gasp that choked off too quickly, that Joe looked down at Nicky in his arms.</p><p>Nicky who was looking back at him.</p><p><em>"Nicolo?"</em> Joe's voice cracked in the silence, hoarse and raw.</p><p>Nicky's body spasmed and suddenly the world was moving too fast for Joe to keep up. Booker was beside them in an instant - yelling at Nile to pull over - Andy snapping back to herself enough to demand to know what was happening - Nicky writhing in pain, unable to breathe, trying to claw at his chest - Joe too caught up to choose between letting Booker near to help or holding Nicky protectively close to him--</p><p>And then Nicky fell inert and silent again, eyes staring unseeingly at the roof.</p><p>Everyone stilled, frozen in shock and confusion. </p><p>Tentatively, Joe reached out to run his fingers through Nicky's hair, marvelling at the small amount of warmth that had returned to his skin. Gently he closed Nicky's eyes. "He came back to me," he muttered under his breath, maybe in Arabic though he wasn't entirely sure. "He came <em>back."</em></p><p>Booker leaned forward to touch the wound on Nicky's chest, and Joe just barely held back the knee-jerk reaction to snap his wrist. Instead he watched as Booker's fingers brushed over the bullet holes, glaring ragged tears in Nicky's flesh. "It hasn't healed."</p><p>"What happened?" Nile asked breathlessly from where she was twisted around in the driver's seat. Beside her Andy's eyes were wide as she stared down at Nicky. None of them had ever seen anything like it. The longest any of them had stayed dead was Joe when a land mine had torn him mostly to shreds in Vietnam; thirty-two terrifying minutes passing until his body had healed enough for him to shock back to life. Nicky had held him a long time after that, ignorant to the war around them as it took a near day for him to become whole again.</p><p>But it had been longer than that this time, maybe an hour - not that Joe had been able to keep track. And Nicky hadn't healed. <em>Why? How?</em> Joe couldn't decided whether he was hopeful or terrified and ended up a sickening mix of the two.</p><p>By silent agreement, they all waited, holding their breath as they kept vigil.</p><p>Nearly a full ten minutes later, Nicky breathed again.</p><p>Joe lifted him up and held Nicky so that his back was pressed to Joe's chest, trying to help alleviate Nicky's desperate struggle to continue drawing breath. Joe started talking - Italian, old Genoese, Arabic - slipping between reassuring Nicky to begging him to <em>please keep breathing</em>. Fresh blood spilled from the bullet holes as his heart started beating again frantically. Booker automatically pressed his hands against the wounds, drawing a pained cry from Nicky. At some point Andy had climbed over the seats and come to crouch beside them, unsure how to help.</p><p>"He's not healing," Booker repeated. Andy handed him a t-shirt she had grabbed from one of their packs, and he pulled it up and pressed it hard against Nicky's heaving chest. Bookers eyes flickered from the rapidly soaking shirt in his hands to an innocuous hole torn higher in Nicky's shirt at the shoulder, something clicking in his mind. "Something's wrong," he murmured distantly, before snapping to attention. "Andy, keep pressure."</p><p>Andy was immediately there, taking over seamlessly as Booker leaned back. Joe looked up from where his cheek was pressed against Nicky's, catching sight of something in Booker's hand. "What are y--"</p><p>Booker grabbed Nicky's wrist, twisting his hand around and running a knife across the exposed palm.</p><p>Nicky gave an aborted shout that ended up more of a choked grunt, and if Joe had had his hands free he would have been throttling Booker. Instead he gripped Nicky tighter and settled for glaring murderously, his dark eyes promising that Booker would pay for that.</p><p>But then Booker held up Nicky's hand. "Look."</p><p>There was no wound. Joe and Andy stared at the unblemished skin as Booker wiped the excess blood away with his thumb. The cut had healed as fast as they usually did. But Nicky was still dying in Joe's arms.</p><p>"He <em>is</em> healing," Booker said. As if to disprove that statement, Nicky slumped against Joe, falling lifeless again. "It's not his time."</p><p>Andy sat back, holding the blood soaked t-shirt loosely in her hands. She stared at Nicky's face, eyes catching on the blood that had spilled from his lips as he had tried breath with blood in his lungs. "He's drowning," she muttered quietly. "Over and over again."</p><p>"Quynh," Joe agreed quietly. Her words to him as she had him pinned with a hand to his throat echoed in his mind - <em>I pray that you suffer as Andromache did</em> - and he realised that her true revenge wasn't taking Nicky from him. It was making him watch helplessly as Nicky suffered her fate - making him choose as he forced Andy to. Joe shifted Nicky in his grip, pressing his cheek to his hair. "Nicolo."</p><p>Booker was still holding Nicky's hand, his stare settled on the bullet wounds. "We have to get them out, the bullets. Maybe that will..."</p><p>"Nile," Andy called, meeting the young immortal's eyes over the headrest, her expression steeled.  "Get us to the safehouse."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning for graphic novice surgical procedures</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nicky died three more times before they got to the safehouse. The worst moment was when he had gasped awake while Booker and Joe were carrying him inside. The two of them lowering him to the damp grass as Joe held Nicky through another shuddering death. When he passed again, Joe looked utterly broken, his wet eyes reflecting the moonlight as he was forced to watch Nicky suffer.</p><p>The safehouse was a cottage that stood alone in the middle of vast fields deep in the English countryside. It was one of Bookers, the deed passed down through a series of phoney descendants since the 1850's. He hadn't really kept up with the upkeep, but it had walls and a roof and they had stayed in far worse places. Inside was full of old classic farmhouse furniture in varying degrees of disrepair and covered in dust and cobwebs.</p><p>By the time that Joe and Booker made it inside into the kitchen, Nile had already cleared and scrubbed down the heavy wooden table and Andy had somehow managed to get the gas stove working, a massive pot of water coming to the boil. Carefully they laid Nicky out on the table, Joe pressing a kiss to his forehead before looking up at the others gathered in the kitchen.</p><p>None of them were surgeons or doctors, considering their wounds had always healed without intervention. Nicky was the only one who had learned more than basic first aid; training as a medic for one of the wars and occasionally refreshing his knowledge every few decades. They knew to keep pressure to slow bleeding, to watch for the dangers of infection, Booker was dab hand at stitches... But digging bullets out of Nicky's chest?</p><p>Andy stepped up, nodding at Joe and then looking down at Nicky. "Okay, Nile see if you can find some clean sheets or towels, if not raid the bags and grab some shirts, anything absorbent. Booker, we'll need alcohol - vodka? - and give me your lighter."</p><p>Once Booker and Nile had left to fulfil their tasks, Andy reached for Joe and clasped his hand, forcing him to meet her eyes. "I am so sorry," she said quietly. </p><p>Joe shook his head. His free hand was buried in Nicky's hair, absently toying with the strands. "This is my fault, what happened to Quynh--"</p><p>"I chose to walk away too," Andy said firmly. "You didn't make me do that, Yusuf, I did it on my own. I <em>chose</em> to move on and leave her behind."</p><p>Joe closed his eyes briefly and then looked down at Nicky. "I can't lose him."</p><p>Andy sighed, "I know Joe, I'll do everything I can but... we don't know if this will work."</p><p>Nicky spluttered, shoulders rising from the table as blood filled his throat once more. Immediately Joe was there, holding Nicky close and coaching him through breathing as he drowned on dry land all over again. Nicky's eyes were full of fear and confusion, pleading with Joe to make it stop until finally they rolled back in his head and he slipped away.</p><p>Joe sobbed and tried to swallow his tears. "It has to work, Andy. It <em>has</em> to."</p><p>Andy nodded, taking a deep breath before going over to the sink and cleaning her hands thoroughly, steeling herself for what she was about to do. </p><p>Booker returned with two bottles of vodka, handing one over to Andy as she pulled her knife from the sheath at the small of her back. Without a scalpel to hand, the thin, sharp knife was the best they had. She poured the vodka over the blade and ran the flame from the lighter across to sterilise it. Nile appeared with an armful of shirts, dumping them in the pot on the stove to boil them. Booker managed to get the fire going in the hearth, and between them they hung the shirts to dry for cloths and bandages.</p><p>As prepared as they could get, they stepped up to the table. Booker shoved a chair behind Joe, encouraging him to sit by Nicky's head. Nile ended up by his feet, Booker to his right and Andy on his left like points on a compass. Booker ripped open Nicky's shirt, exposing his bloodstained chest and the two deep boreholes with ragged edges. Bruised skin and odd dark veins spreading out like a spider's web from the wounds. </p><p>"When he wakes up, keep him still," Andy instructed. "I don't want to make this worse."</p><p>Considering she was about to carve into Nicky and they had no idea how deep she would have to dig to get to the bullets, that was likely a vain hope, but it was all she could do.</p><p>Andy made the first incision, black blood welling from the cut. They didn't have forceps or tweezers or hell, even a pair of pliers, leaving Andy with just her fingers. Carefully she prodded the wound, feeling for the metal amongst the soft flesh, trying to ignore slick blood against her skin. "Found it."</p><p>Booker nodded, gesturing at Nile to grab one of the re-purposed bandages so that he could wipe away the excess blood. </p><p>Andy managed to get her thumb and forefinger into the wound, struggling to get purchase on the slick metal before she finally got a good grip and slowly pulled it out. Once it was free, she held up the slug in the low light, frowning at its odd black colour. Nile offered her a bowel, the metal meeting china with a soft chink.</p><p>"Get me the water and a cup," Booker instructed, and Nile brought the cooling pot over. The water was just shy of too warm, and Booker scooped up a cup full to flush the wound. Clotted blood and tinted water run in rivulets across Nicky's skin, just as he shuddered and gasped awake. </p><p>Joe was over him in an instant, keeping Nicky's panicked eyes on him for the few minutes the he stayed with them, a stream of almost non-sensical words spilling from his lips as Nicky choked and asphyxiated to death again.</p><p>Booker cleaned away the fresh blood and dirty water, exposing Andy's handiwork. "I think it's healing?" he said quietly to Andy, not wanting to draw Joe's attention away from Nicky where he was carefully wiping away the blood that had dribbled down from the corners of Nicky's mouth and flecked his chin. "Slowly, maybe?"</p><p>Andy leaned forward to look at where Booker was pointing, the signs of new flesh starting to appear and allowed herself to hope. She picked up the knife again. "Once more unto the breach."</p><p>Once again Andy used the knife to make the second bullet hole a little wider to allow her finger to probe inside. Within moments she was frowning. "Shit. I can't-- I can't find it. <em>Fuck.</em> I think it ricocheted."</p><p>"Fuck." Booker agreed. If the bullet had ricocheted it could have ended up anywhere; clipped a rib and ended up in a hip for all they knew. By the look on Andy's face when she looked up at him, she knew that too.</p><p>She continued dig, pushing in as far as her finger could reach, all the way to the knuckle. "Wait-- I think... found it. I just can't <em>reach</em> it. <em>Dammnit."</em></p><p>Whether it was right or wrong, Andy didn't know, but she figured there was nothing for it. Retracting her hand, she picked the knife back up and made the wound even bigger. Joe watched her from the corner of his eyes before purposely looking away, focusing on Nicky's face rather than the widening tear. Nile made a small choked noise as she realised exactly what Andy was about to do, before she quickly grabbed some more of the makeshift bandages. Booker shared a look with Andy, nodding his support.</p><p>Holding her breath, Andy reached back in. Folding her hand as small as possible, leading with her fore and middle finger like a pair of scissors, she followed her previous exploration until the tips brushed the metal. To get a grip, she pushed deeper still, almost to her wrist. Just as she closed around it, she felt Nicky's lungs expand--</p><p><em>"Shit."</em> Andy swore emphatically. "Hold him - hold him still <em>n--"</em></p><p>Thankfully they reacted before Nicky's eyes flew open; Nile throwing her weight across his legs as Booker laid an arm across his shoulders and stomach to keep his torso still with Andy's hand still buried in his chest. Joe had never moved, his grip twisting a little tighter in Nicky's hair to ground him as he woke in pain and suffocating once again.</p><p>Panic, burning agony and a severe amount of oxygen deprivation had Nicky fighting them in confusion, actually managing to land a solid punch to Bookers jaw and catching Nile in the chin with his knee. He didn't even seem aware anymore of Joe trying to calm him; not hearing the soothing litany or words or feeling the hand cupping his cheek. But it was clear that he definitely did see and feel Andy's hand inside him. She pulled back quickly - too quickly if the spurt of blood from the wound was anything to go by - the second bullet between her fingers.</p><p>Joe pressed his forehead to Nicky's as his struggles began to slow. "I'm sorry," he repeated quietly, again and again. "I am so sorry Nicolo, please forgive me, I'm sorry..."</p><p>As Nicky's heart stopped once more, so too did the arterial blood pulsing from the injury. Gently, Booker and Nile pulled back, absently rubbing bruises that had already disappeared. Andy dropped the bullet in the bowl with the first, trying to ignore the tremor in her hands as Booker flushed the gaping wound and wiped away the blood. They were all watching the bullet holes for the tiniest movement or signs of healing.</p><p>It took nearly thirty minutes before Nicky finally breathed again. </p><p>Joe had slumped at the head of the table, his fingers caressing Nicky's face and hair as he waited for Nicky to come back to him. Andy had found a chair and was clinging tightly to Nicky's hand, her other hand settled on Joe's arm in reassurance. Booker was slouched opposite with Nile beside him, waiting.</p><p>Nicky's eyes fluttered, and Joe leaned forward, whispering against his skin. "Nicolo, wake up. Nicolo."</p><p>The breaths weren't easy, but they continued. The wounds were still open on his chest, but they were closing. Nicky met Joe's worried stare.</p><p>"I'm here."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Andy woke up with a painful crick in her neck. Her mind was foggy at first, trying to figure out the strange position that her body was in before it all came flooding back.</p><p>She must have passed out where she was standing, slumped over the heavy wooden table with a chair barely under one butt cheek where she had lazily tugged it forward with her foot. One hand was clasped tightly around Nicky's, her cheek against his thigh. He was <em>warm</em>, fingers twitching in her grip when she squeezed tight.</p><p>Andy let out a deep sigh, thanking every deity she had learned of during her thousands of years on Earth. </p><p>Pushing herself upright and properly onto her chair, Andy surveyed her family. Nicky was sprawled across the table, still with the deep sleep of the exhausted rather than the coldness of death. His head was pillowed on Joe's arm where they had ended up tangled in an upside down hug. Joe's face was pressed in the juncture of Nicky's shoulder and neck, one hand resting over Nicky's heart. Opposite Andy, Nile slouched awkwardly in her own unforgiving chair, head thrown back and snoring in the quiet.</p><p>"The adrenaline crash hit us all hard," Booker murmured, drawing Andy's eyes to where he was standing by the sink. The skin on his hands and arms were slightly pink from where he must have scrubbed at the dried blood he was coated in. He had changed his shirt, and Andy noticed that there were more clean clothes waiting at the end of the table for the rest of them. "I checked the perimeter and parked the van out of sight. The bedrooms are clean-ish and the water heater is working... mostly."</p><p>Flashing him a grateful smile, Andy nodded, "Thanks, Book"</p><p>Book shook off her words as casually as he threw down the rag that he had been using to dry his hands. "Get cleaned up and I'll take a look at your shoulder. It could probably do with a couple stitches."</p><p>Honestly, Andy had mostly forgotten about it, but as she straightened into a stretch the deep cut made itself know with a sharp sting and the uncomfortable pull of dried blood on fabric. She stripped off her top - any of them seeing her in just her bra nothing new considering the close quarters they'd lived in before - and headed over to the sink to rinse off. </p><p>Booker came up behind her, running one of the unused bandage strips under the tap before gently starting to clean the wound. It ran from the base of her neck in a horizontal slash, shallow until the deep gouge where the arrow tip had gotten caught on the shoulder of her body armour. Andy shuddered as she recalled Quynh's bright eyes, not even seeing Andy as she tore through anything that got between her and her revenge on Joe - screaming at him to <em>wake up</em> quicker so she could kill him again--</p><p>"Hey," Booker said quietly. He pushed a rag into her hands so that she could dry them and gently pulled her back to her chair. He had scrounged up a sewing kit and half a tube of antiseptic from somewhere, and got to work stitching her back together the human way.</p><p>They fell into silence, the only sound the dawn chorus of birds starting to wake in the countryside around them, and Nile's snuffled snores.</p><p>Andy found herself staring at the whorls in the wood of the table, dark red stained deep into the grain. Her mind was a mess, running over everything that had happened. Nicky's blood slick and warm on her skin, Quynh screaming in rage, Nile's stunned face with an arrow sprouting from her eye, Joe's throat slit so deep she could almost see his spine, Booker's guilty expression. </p><p>Joe's broken keen of grief, a lifeless Nicky limp in his arms.</p><p>She almost lost her entire family last night. She had ignored Booker's warning, blinded to anything but the chance to beg for forgiveness from someone who had truly been gone centuries ago.</p><p>"You guys should be more prepared," Booker commented as he tied off the last neat stitch, his tone worried but buried under his usual cavalier charm. "I was stunned you actually wore the body armour, but it doesn't protect you from everything." </p><p>Andy shrugged off the concern for her vulnerable mortal status, but knew that Booker was right. Even a basic field kit would have had better tools for the barbarian surgery that they had performed just hours before. "Nicky used to have a kit, I think. Pretty sure it's still in storage in Iraq."</p><p>Booker went to open his mouth, likely to comment on the use of a medical kit a literal continent away from the people who needed it, but swallowed it down. He tidied up the supplies and passed her a shirt to replace the blood soaked one she had dropped on the floor.  He gave everyone a visual check-up, made sure that the fire was still stoked in the hearth and started cleaning blood stains from the porcelain sink.</p><p>Andy recognised what he was doing, and it made her chest ache. Tiny gestures, guilt fuelled as he tried to make himself useful to them. Believing that he wasn't welcome and knowing that he would have to leave them soon, all the while finding small jobs to put it off as long as possible. "Book--" </p><p>"I'll be gone by tonight," he said resignedly, back turned to her where he was leaning over the sink. "I just need a little time to get some things in place."</p><p>Andy closed her eyes, feeling the burn of friendly fire in her gut as Booker pinned her arms behind her, tearing her heart out just as surely as if he had taken an actual knife to her. Dragged into the lab to see Joe and Nicky strapped down, too far apart, the dried blood on their skin evidence to the wounds that had been carved into them. Standing on the pebbles by the Thames, telling him there had to be a <em>price.</em></p><p>But who was really paying it?</p><p>"You don't have to go, Booker," Andy replied, selfishly, knowing that she just couldn't take leaving someone else behind. "You can stay--"</p><p>"Still got ninety-nine years to go, Andy."</p><p>And that hits like a punch to the gut. She had delivered that sentence, asked for it. But she had begged to see Quynh again too, and look what that had bought them. And at the heart of it, she didn't <em>have</em> ninety-nine years left. "I can't afford to hold grudges that long anymore," she said quietly. "I'll talk to them--"</p><p>Booker raised a disbelieving eyebrow and scoffed. Which okay, yeah. Nile had already forgiven him the same day, but she didn't have the history. Nicky was pragmatic, it would take a while to get true forgiveness from him for hurting Joe, but he would be cold quietly. Joe - Joe was the hard sell; and that was only if he would be willing to speak to anyone but Nicky for the next decade or so while they smoothed the broken shards of what happened last night. </p><p>"We were mad when we decided on the exile," Andy said, as if that was an excuse. "You betrayed us in the worst way, and the hurt and pain of that was still fresh. We were all still licking our wounds, you <em>know</em> how Joe gets when it comes to Nicky and, and <em>none</em> of us were in the right headspace to make that decision." </p><p>Andy sighed heavily. "I... I didn't... I had no concept of just long a hundred years would be."</p><p>Booker looked to the ceiling, jaw working as he tried to make words out of the emotions that he had never been good at controlling. "You were right. You were right to send me away for what I did. I <em>deserve</em> it. I should have done as you asked and <em>stayed away."</em>  His voice trembled but grew firmer as he spoke. "None of this would have-- this was my fault All of this was <em>my fault,</em> Andy. I threw Quynh back into your life, shattered the memory you had of her. Put Joe and Nile in danger - fuck, I was supposed to be watching Nicky's back and looking what fucking happened!"</p><p>"Punishing yourself isn't going to make it better, Booker," Andy replied. "You've done enough of that, don't you think?"</p><p>"And you? Have you punished yourself enough?" Booker threw back at her, another backhand to her soul. Five hundred years she had cursed herself for her biggest mistake, abandoning Quynh to suffer alone while she convinced herself she had moved on. Booker had followed her example, blaming himself outliving his wife and sons as they both looked at the eternity in front of them as a never-ending penance for their mistakes.</p><p>
  <em>If Merrick can find out why we keep living, he might find a way how to end it</em>
</p><p>"Can you honestly say that you've forgiven me?" Booker asked in the silence.</p><p><em>Yes.</em> She wanted to say. She wanted to forgive him and keep him close to her so she could finally help him where she had failed all these years. She wanted to trust him again, be willing to show him her back and not remember him shooting her in it. She wanted to forget what he had done because he was <em>family, dammit,</em> and their family was so very small.</p><p>But he had <em>hurt</em> her family so badly. Many had died brutally for far less than what he had done. </p><p>"I... I want to," Andy muttered eventually, meeting Booker's eyes. "Do you remember when Nile asked if we were the good guys or the bad guys? And Nicky said that it depended on the century; that we did what we thought was right? You were <em>wrong,</em> Book, <em>so wrong,</em> but I think you were trying to do it for the right reasons, same as Copley. It just hurt more because it was <em>you."</em></p><p>Booker shook his head "You think I'm a better person than I really am."</p><p>"I think you've got enough time to become that person." </p><p>"She's right."</p><p>Both Andy and Booker snapped to stare at Joe. His arms were still wrapped around Nicky tightly, but his dark eyes were looking right at Booker.</p><p>"Stay, Booker," Joe said, voice hoarse. "Please."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It was morning proper by the time Nicky's eyes opened again.</p><p>Joe hadn't moved, still bowed over the end of the table with Nicky's head cradled in his arms and his forehead pressed to Nicky's shoulder. He found himself matching Nicky's slow even breaths, thanking all the gods he knew for each and every inhale. </p><p>Nile had won the first shower by the fact that she had had to regrow an eyeball and they all remembered how awful that first experience was. She had paused beside the two of them to squeeze Joe's shoulder in comfort before leaving the kitchen. Andy had offered for Joe to go next - he was coated in a thick layer of dried and flaking blood - but he had just held Nicky tighter. "I'll wait for him."</p><p>Andy and Booker shared an understanding look, before silently leaving them alone.</p><p>It was another hour or so after they had left, the time having passed without Joe really noticing, when Nicky twitched. Reflexively he reached up to grip Joe's arm before he had even really woken up. Joe lifted his head to press a kiss to Nicky's hair, whispering quietly in Italian to draw him into consciousness.</p><p>"Yusuf," Nicky whispered, blinking slowly at him.</p><p>Joe let out a deep breath in relief, smiling down at the man in his arms. A sob pressed at the back of his throat, hours of pent up pain and loss and agony choking him. He swallowed it down at Nicky's look of concern, and Joe silenced his worried questions with a kiss to his lips before he could ask them. It tasted too much of blood, but it was <em>Nicky</em> and that was all that Joe cared about.</p><p>They exchanged slow kisses for a while, Nicky having to pull back a few times as he struggled to catch his breath but always going back for more. Eventually they pulled away, and Joe helped Nicky to sit up, swinging his legs over the edge of the table. Nicky's eyes widened when he finally got a good look at Joe. "What <em>happened</em> to you?"</p><p>Joe shrugged. "It doesn't matter."</p><p>Nicky's raised eyebrow told Joe just how unimpressed he was with that answer.</p><p>"Come on," Joe distracted instead, tugging gently on his arms to encourage Nicky onto his feet. He staggered, struggling to stand under his own power so Joe wrapped an arm tightly around his waist. "Let's see if they left us any hot water."</p><p>They stumbled in tandem out of the kitchen and down the hall to the small bathroom. The space was tiny, barely housing the toilet and sink with a tub/shower combo tucked under the window. A bath while they were both so covered in gore was an unpleasant thought, so Joe let Nicky lean against the sink as he got the shower running. Nicky watched him, frowning slightly in apprehension. "I don't know if I can stand that long."</p><p>Nicky was pale and shaking, exhausted already from the short walk from the kitchen. It wasn't unexpected - healing from severe injuries, or multiple resurrections in a row, could often take a lot out of them - but he was still having trouble breathing, and if the hand he pressed to ribs was any indication, he was still in pain too. Joe felt a spark of rage light through him,<em> what the hell had they done to his Nicky?</em></p><p>Joe swallowed hard and smiled warmly at him. "Don't worry about it, I got you."</p><p>Nicky nodded, trying to match his smile though it looked more of a grimace instead. Joe stepped back into his personal space, kissing him again quickly before focusing on removing their clothes. He carefully divested Nicky of his jeans and boxers and trailed his fingertips across his stomach as he lifted his shirt. Nicky traced the slashes in Joe's t-shirt, worry twisting his lips as he calculated where all his injuries would have been. He looked up at Joe questioningly, but Joe just shook his head and pushed Nicky over to the bath.   </p><p>He helped Nicky over the edge and quickly joined him, one arm around his torso as he blindly pulled the shower curtain across so they didn't splash blood across the bathroom floor. The water was still running warm, thankfully, sluicing across their skin and staining the old porcelain tub pink beneath their feet.</p><p>"Nicolo," Joe whispered his name like a prayer. To him, it was. He held Nicky close to him, bodies pressed together in the small space as Nicky rested his head back against Joe's shoulder. Joe closed his eyes, trying to focus on the feel of Nicky's soft breath against his cheek, the hand that he had tangled in the hair at his nape, the heat of every point of contact between them. </p><p>Not cold skin cold under his hands. Terrified eyes turning distant and lifeless. The yawning crevice in his chest as half his soul was ripped from--</p><p>"I'm here," Nicky whispered, pulling lightly at Joe's hair. "I'm right here."</p><p>The sob that had been choking him broke free with an agonised gasp. Joe <em>fell apart,</em> tears falling heavily down his cheeks as he completely lost control. Nicky twisted in his grip so that they were chest to chest, bringing his arms up to embrace him tightly, his lips brushing his ear as he spoke quietly in their language. Joe pushed Nicky's back against the tiles and caged him in with his body, needing him close and safe and protected. Nicky didn't protest, holding on just as tightly as his ran his fingers soothingly though Joe's curls.</p><p>Joe had almost lost him. He <em>had</em> lost him. </p><p>He cried, the loss a raw and gaping wound still even as he tried to reassure himself of Nicky in his arms. The horror, the terror, the rage, the <em>pain,</em> all of it tearing him apart. His nerves were a wreck, his heart broken and his mind a minefield of harrowing flashbacks. </p><p>He cried, face pressed in the crook of Nicky's neck, until he felt Nicky start to slide down the wall. Immediately Joe leaned back slightly to see Nicky's exhausted eyes meet his with an apologetic smile. </p><p>"I'm so sorry," Joe said hoarsely, shifting them so that he could take more of Nicky's weight, berating himself for his selfishness. He boxed away the pain to unpack later, burying the shards deep so that he could be strong for them both.</p><p>The guilt must have shown through though as Nicky hushed him, pulling him in for a kiss before very nearly collapsing. Carefully Joe lowered them both down so that Nicky was sat slumped under the stream of the shower. Most of the blood was gone, just the most stubborn stains remaining. Joe found a bottle of body wash that Booker must have left in shower for them and lathered up a cloth. Nicky watched him tiredly as Joe ran the cloth over every inch of skin, taking care to be gentle with his chest. His eyes caught on the dark scar tissue of the mostly-healed twin bullet holes before he hid them beneath the suds.</p><p>Once Nicky was clean Joe sorted himself in a third of the time, not caring beyond ridding his body of the evidence of the long night before. </p><p>Nicky's eyes were barely open by the time he got them both out of the shower. Someone thoughtful had dropped off some clean towels and soft clothes for them - probably either Andy or Booker who knew them well enough to know that they would have forgotten. Nicky tried to work with him as Joe got them both dry and dressed but he was clearly at his limit.</p><p>Joe was glad that their room was near the bathroom and not upstairs like the others'. He had to practically carry Nicky across the threshold and over to edge of the bed. He found himself supporting Nicky as he folded forward and pressed his forehead to Joe's stomach, his breath coming in short gasps that has Joe flashing back. "Nicolo?"</p><p>"S'okay," Nicky panted. "Just. Tight. Think it's still, healing."</p><p>Joe frowned at that - it had been a couple of hours since the horror scene on the kitchen table, why was it taking so long to heal? He had hoped that the scar tissue was the last remains of the deadly wounds, but what if he was still bleeding internally? What if a fragment of the bullet was still lodged inside? Could Nicky be dying again even now, just slower than before--</p><p>"I'm fine," Nicky pinched him where his hand had settled at Joe's waist. His breathing had slowed a little, but Joe suspected he was doing it on purpose to calm Joe down rather than a sudden ability to do so. "I'm good, just tired."</p><p>Joe nodded and Nicky pushed himself upright so he could meet his eyes. "Join me," Nicky instructed, intertwining their fingers so he could pull Joe down towards the bed. "You look exhausted."</p><p><em>I don't deserve this man</em> Joe found himself thinking - not for the first time in nine centuries. Joe may be the poet, the incurable romantic, but Nicky was just so <em>kind.</em> Good to the very heart of him; even when he was tearing through their enemies like a feral avenging angel. Nicky was the quiet, solid presence that Joe constantly found himself leaning on for support; Nicky always there for him without a thought for his own worries. He was strong, powerful in his own right, and Joe just wanted to hold him close and protect him. Always.</p><p>Nicky fell back against the pillow with a relieved sigh; automatically going to roll on to his side before Joe blindly reached for his hip to stop him. "Could you-- do you mind..." Joe stammered, "Can you sleep on your back?"</p><p>Nicky's nose scrunched up in confusion, but he did as asked. Joe climbed onto the bed next to him, carefully laying his head on Nicky's shoulder and settling his arm across his waist. "Am I hurting you?"</p><p>"No," Nicky whispered, bringing one arm around Joe's shoulders and tangling his other hand together with Joe's on his hip. "Never."</p><p>They rarely slept like this, but the position pressed Joe's ear to Nicky's skin; to the warmth and gentle pulse of life beneath, rising and falling with each slightly too-short breath. Nicky was slipping into sleep quickly, his fingers slowing where they were tracing patterns on Joe's shoulder. "I love you," he whispered, pressing a kiss to Joe's hair. "I'm sorry I almost left you."</p><p>Joe tensed a little but relaxed under Nicky's administrations. "You came back, that's all that matters."</p><p>"Of course. We promised," Nicky murmured. "We go together."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The bedroom door opened around mid-afternoon, Joe awake in an instant at the sudden sound only to find Nile standing in the doorway looking at him apologetically. "Sorry, didn't mean to wake you."</p><p>Joe rubbed at his tired eyes and gave a small smile. "It's okay, don't worry about it."</p><p>"I bring food," Nile said leadingly, presenting a plate with some picnic foods on it; things that were easy to eat and wouldn't get ruined when they were inevitably ignored for hours. Joe's smile grew at her sweet gesture. "You hungry?"</p><p>Honestly, food was last thing Joe would be thinking of a for a while, but he nodded anyway, inviting Nile inside. She must have known as she simply placed the plate on the bedside cabinet before perching carefully on the edge of bed beside Nicky. For his part, Nicky didn't even twitch in his sleep, oblivious to the waking world in a way that they could rarely be. Joe frowned, grateful that he was resting, but also worried by the lack of reaction. Nicky was usually the definition of a light sleeper, relying on Joe's presence at his back to get more than an hour or so of sleep.</p><p>"I'm sorry," Nile said after a moment, and Joe realised that she had been watching them while he drifted. "I really just wanted to check on you guys. Andy said it was a bad idea--"</p><p>"It's fine," Joe cut her off. Quite magnanimously, Joe released Nicky's hand where it was resting at his waist and let Nile take it instead. With a grateful smile she pulled Nicky's hand into her lap, her fingers pressed to the pulse of his wrist. She was so young. Half a year thrown into a completely different life, with a new family that would be all she would have for eternity, and already she had nearly lost one of them. She had almost lost <em>Nicky,</em> who was teaching how to cook while Andy and Joe were more focused on training. Telling her stories and helping her get to know them. Making sure that she knew she was <em>family,</em> not just a soldier in their army.</p><p>"How are you holding up?" Joe asked quietly, making Nile blink at him in surprise.</p><p>"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" she scoffed. "What you've both been through--"</p><p>"Doesn't make what you feel matter any less," Joe finished, reaching over Nicky to place a hand on her arm. "I think I remember you taking quite a hit right?"</p><p>Nile nodded awkwardly, her free hand touching her eye as she shuddered. "Q- She shot me. With an arrow. Through the eye. I... I had to pull it out. <em>Fuck</em> it hurt."</p><p>Joe hissed sympathetically. "Once, a while aback, I got stabbed through the eye with a dagger in a damn bar fight. Died instantly, but when I came back it was still there and I couldn't get it out. Nicky had to get us out of there before anyone noticed. I just remember being terrified that it was stuck and I'd be in agony for literally ever. I was lucky I had Nicky to help me, he was the one that pulled it out. I'm sorry you had to do it on your own."</p><p>"You were understandably distracted at the time," Nile shrugged. "And partially beheaded if I remember correctly."</p><p>Joe grimaced at the memory, pressing a little closer to Nicky. Nile smiled softly at them, giving Nicky's hand one last squeeze before standing. "I should go, leave you guys to sleep."</p><p>"Thank you, Nile," Joe said, making her pause at the door to look back at him. "I don't remember much, but I know you got Andy and I out of there, got all of us here."</p><p>Nile shifted self-consciously. "I didn't- I just--"</p><p>Joe smiled at her. "You're so young, and a lot stronger than you think you are. I believe Nicky is right, we are meant to find each other, and there's a reason it's you. You're meant to be with us."</p><p>"Thanks, Joe," Nile murmured quietly, giving both him and Nicky a long look before slipping out the door.</p><p>In silence once again, Joe propped himself on is elbow so he could watch Nicky sleep. The room was dark thanks to the thick curtains, but daylight still streamed through the gaps, shards of gold cutting across them. Carefully, Joe traced his fingers over Nicky's features, marvelling at the warmth of his skin and just grateful that he could still touch. </p><p>Even in sleep, Nicky's expression was furrowed slightly in pain, and Joe ran his thumb over his brow to soothe the creases. His breathing was still a little too short, a good twelve hours after Andy had dug the bullets out of him and Joe chewed his lip worriedly. He moved his hand down to Nicky's chest, fingertips brushing where the wounds were through the fabric, frowning at the feel of raised skin. Joe slipped his hand under Nicky's t-shirt, lifting it a little to reveal the scars on his chest.</p><p>"Should I come back later?" Andy's voice cut through the room with a teasing lilt. Joe looked up to find her leaning against the door frame with her arms crossed and smirk on her face. "Once you've finished molesting Nicky in his sleep?"</p><p>Joe rolled his eyes at her - she had witnessed significantly more than Joe's hand up Nicky's shirt in the centuries they had known each other - then gestured for her come in. In moments Andy had settled in the spot Nile had vacated, checking on both of them with a brief touch to their shoulders before resting a comforting hand on Joe's arm. </p><p>They stayed like that for a while, just drawing strength from each other's presence. Joe studied Andy, taking in the tense line of her shoulders, the distant look in her eyes. Her fingers flexed where they lay on his arm, twisting the hem of his sleeve. "We're still here," Joe said quietly, tapping his knuckles against her thigh. "I'm here when you're ready to talk about--"</p><p>"Not yet," Andy said quickly with a tight smile. "Thank you, but I can't. Not yet."</p><p>Joe nodded in understanding. He was pretty sure he wasn't ready to talk about Quynh yet either, not when everything was still so fresh. But he remembered the Andy that had just lost Quynh the first time - she didn't have hundreds of years to put herself back together now, and Joe just hoped that this time she could truly heal.</p><p>With a sigh, Joe returned his hand to Nicky's chest, his thoughts straying back to the scars. "I've never seen him sleep so long," he muttered, unable to keep the worry out of his voice. "He hasn't even twitched all this time."</p><p>"He knows he's safe with you, Joe," Andy said reassuringly. "After everything-- He's exhausted, it's okay for him to sleep."</p><p>"He's still not healed properly."</p><p>Andy's brow furrowed. "What do you mean?"</p><p>"Earlier, he could barely stand, even with help, he was still struggling to breathe, he was clearly in pain and--" Andy pinched his arm sharply, and Joe realised he was panicking. He took a deliberate breath. "He has scars, Andy. We don't have scars, we <em>can't."</em></p><p>Andy's eyes flickered to Nicky's chest, and she gently nudged his hand up so she could take a look for herself. Two near perfect circles, rimmed in raised puckered skin, stark white against Nicky's natural tanned tone. "They could still fade," Andy tried as she lowered Nicky's shirt again, though Joe could see his own worry reflected in her expression. They had no idea what was in those bullets to cause the reaction that they had, what the long term consequences would be.</p><p>"I just..." Joe whispered, stroking Nicky's cheek. "He's so <em>still.</em> I keep seeing--"</p><p>"Don't," Andy cut him off. "Don't torture yourself like that."</p><p>Joe nodded, closing his eyes as if that would make the image of Nicky limp in his arms disappear. The feel of his body a heavy dead weight against him. He had seen Nicky dead so many times, and he remembered each and every moment he had spent waiting for him to come back. Their bodies healed, not a blemish to show for the horrors inflicted upon them, but the memories never faded.</p><p>Nicky wriggled against him, his shoulder moving as if he were trying to roll over, making a small grumpy noise when he found himself pinned under Joe's weight against his side. At the second attempt, Joe remembered to move, leaning back slightly so that Nicky could roll onto his side. With another grunt, he blindly reached for Joe's hand, pulling him forward so Joe's front was pressed to his back and trapping his arm tight against Nicky's chest. He settled again with a satisfied huff once he had Joe spooned around him in their usual position. </p><p>He hadn't actually woken up.</p><p>Andy snorted a laugh, ruffling Nicky's hair affectionately. Joe couldn't help laughing as well, pressing his nose to the nape of Nicky's neck and closing his eyes in relief. With Nicky warm and safe against him, it wasn't long before he felt the pull of sleep again, his mind and body still exhausted despite his earlier nap.  </p><p>"He's still here, Joe," Andy assured him, pressing a kiss to Joe's temple as she stood to leave. "Focus on that."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"So what you're saying is: you don't know."</p><p>Copley sighed heavily, his image pixelating on the screen thanks to their crappy internet connection. They had left the safehouse in the English countryside a week ago, the team moving to a châteaux they had bought in southern France fifty or so years after they had picked up Booker. They hadn't been there in a while, so it had been in almost as bad a state as the cottage when they arrived, but after a few repairs and some clean up they had it comfortable again.</p><p>They were gathered around the kitchen table; Andy seated at the head with her arms folded and glaring at the tablet computer propped in front of her. Booker was to her shoulder, leaning against the counter, while Nile was to her right with her elbows on the table. Joe and Nicky were off camera, Nicky sat in chair with Joe behind him with his hands on his shoulders.</p><p><em>"What I'm saying is,</em>" Copley continued,<em> "there isn't enough data at this point to draw any concrete conclusions."</em></p><p>"How did they know about Quynh?" Andy demanded. "When did they find her and why were they looking for her in the first place?"</p><p><em>"They found her five months ago,"</em> Copley answered as he shuffled a couple of papers around. Behind him on the screen Andy could see another one of his walls of evidence like he had done for them; hundreds of sheets of papers and photographs pinned up and connected with post-it notes and strings. <em>"I.Y.S Pharmaceuticals filed for an expedition to search a forty mile stretch of the Channel; citing the reason as looking for an organism that would be vital to their proprietary research on a medical breakthrough. There is nothing in the data you sent through to suggest</em> why<em> they knew to search there."</em></p><p>"Are they associated with Merrick at all?" Booker asked quietly, shooting a quick guilty glance at Joe and Nicky. "Could he have outsourced any of their research?"</p><p>Copley shook his head. "There's nothing linking them; and Merrick was insistent on keeping everything in-house lest his competitors get a hold of anything and jeopardise his pay-day."</p><p>"What about Kozak? She survived, didn't she?" Nicky suggested. Joe tensed behind him at the name and Nicky squeezed his hand reassuringly. </p><p><em>"She was arrested at the scene,"</em> Copley answered with a shrug. <em>"She was caught trying to leave the building with the samples by the local police. Carrying human body parts while talking about a noble prize got her a psych evaluation, and she's currently at an institution in London. The samples were destroyed and replaced, and she's been careful not to mention immortality, but I'm keeping an eye on her. She hasn't had any visitors and I have access to the transcripts of all her psych sessions." </em></p><p>Andy closed her eyes and took a deep breath, concerned by the close call. "We should have burned that place to the ground, no survivors."</p><p>"What I don't get," Nile leaned forward, looking to Nicky who had absently pressed his fingers to his chest, right over his scars, "is why create a weapon? I thought these people were researching how to bottle immortality like Merrick, that's where the money is right? So why develop something that can <em>hurt</em> us, and potentially kill any test subjects?"</p><p>She flashed an apologetic look at Joe, who was holding on to Nicky so tight that it had to be hurting by this point. Nicky flashed her a light smile, taken no offence at her words. "What we are cannot be replicated--"</p><p>"Which makes us a threat," Joe finished, jaw clenched. He gave Andy a meaningful look. "We've all seen what humans do when they feel threatened by something they don't understand."</p><p>Andy's mind flashed back to the witch trials; the fear and anger of man as they hunted down anyone that was different. Hanging from the noose for a fictional crime. Attempt after attempt to kill them just for existing. Dragging Quynh away to be locked in an underwater tomb. Yes, she was more than aware of what humans would do when threatened - just how <em>inventive</em> they could be. </p><p>And now they had something that could truly hurt them. Trap them in a cycle of dying endlessly. Something that had the potential to <em>kill</em> her family. </p><p><em>"We're fairly certain that Nicky was targeted specifically, yes? For personal reasons?"</em>  Copley said after a few minutes of silence, snapping Andy's attention back to him. <em>"I'm more concerned by what that implies regarding Quynh. We were initially operating under the assumption that she was being manipulated or coerced, however if I.Y.S are actually working with her, then that is far more dangerous. These people went to great lengths to let her get her revenge. They must want</em> something<em> in return"</em></p><p>And didn't that just lead to more questions. What did they want? Quynh wanted revenge, wanted to hurt Joe and Nicky how she and Andy had been hurt, punishing them for what she perceived to be Joe's crime. Would that be enough for her? Would one bloody fight and shooting Nicky be enough to satisfy her rage? Did I.Y.S actually want to come after them as well, or did they just allow Quynh an outlet so that she would be easier to direct at another target?   </p><p>An unstoppable weapon fuelled by 500 years of betrayal, madness, trauma and rage; backed by a company mostly hidden in the shadows, unknown resources and essentially an army at their command. </p><p>Of all the monsters and men they had fought, this was the biggest threat of all.</p><p>"We'll have to stop them," Andy said determinedly. "We'll have to stop... her."</p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <strong>THREE MONTHS LATER</strong>
</p><p>The bedroom was silent, only the quiet sounds of nature whispering through the open window with the heat of a summer night. A light breeze brushed aside the curtain, moonlight streaking across the room.</p><p>On the bed Joe was wrapped tightly around Nicky, pressed against his bare skin despite the warmth of the night. It wasn't often they slept in so little; living in shared quarters or in dangerous places making them more used to lying together fully dressed, ready to spring to action at the slightest provocation. But it had been quiet for a while now, the team choosing to lay low at the châteaux while Copley continued the investigation.</p><p>Nicky woke with a confused grunt, hand pressing to his chest on reflex. A sharp pain jabbed him beneath his ribs, stealing his breath. Within moments he found himself panting, the pain twisting into agony that had him curling forward in a vain attempt to alleviate it.</p><p>Joe stirred behind him, hand tightening on Nicky's waist. "Nicolo?"</p><p>"It's okay," Nicky answered in Italian, hoping his voice sounded like a whisper to Joe's mostly-asleep ears rather than a gasp. Nicky turned on to his back, swallowing a whimper of pain, to run his fingers through Joe's hair soothingly. It had been so hard for Joe to sleep recently, nightmares and a need to constantly reassure himself that Nicky was still there waking him often, and Nicky was loathe to steal the peace that he had finally managed to gain. "Everything's okay. Go back to sleep."</p><p>It took a few minutes for Joe to settle again, Nicky forcefully keeping his breaths slow and even to match him. But the pain in his chest wasn't fading, getting worse and worse to the point of burning torture.</p><p>Smoothly, Nicky slipped from Joe's arms, careful not to disturb him even as he struggled to get to his feet. The pain was intense, any attempts to slow his breathing disappearing as it became apparent that he simply <em>couldn't breathe.</em></p><p>Nicky made it to the adjoining bathroom, somehow managing to close the door silently behind him with shaking hands. He propped himself over the sink, head bowed, trying desperately to remember how to breathe, something warm and metallic clogging the back of his throat.</p><p>His vision was greying, his thoughts a confused litany of pain, confusion, fear and the need to stay <em>quiet.</em> He needed to cough but couldn't - choked instead - spitting red into the sink. </p><p>Slowly, slowly, the pain started to recede, and after a few minutes he was finally able to draw a full breath. His whole body was shaking, his hands tingling where they were clasping at the sink, his head pounding as the room spun around him. Finally, he looked up at his reflection in mirror before him, eyes catching on the white scars on his chest even in the darkness.</p><p>"Nicolo?" came Joe's voice from the doorway. "What's wrong?"</p><p>Nicky turned the tap, washing away the blood and splashing water on his face to hide the evidence. He offered Joe a warm smile, hating the fact that he had put the worry back into Joe's eyes.</p><p>"Nothing," he lied. "Just a bad dream."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you kindly to you all for sticking with me! Every reader, kudos, bookmark and comment is very much appreciated and I am just glad that you enjoyed it!</p><p>I have ideas for a sequel and a few random one shots, so hopefully I should have some more for you soon :)</p><p>I am very much open for inspired-by fics, continuations or even people's own versions of this story - please just let me know and stick a link in your fic and I shall come say hi!</p>
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